Under Covers
by The-Lady-Isis
Summary: AU BMWW - At eight, Bruce Wayne witnesses the brutal murder of his parents. Everything becomes clear. It can't happen again. The only way to ensure that is not to fight crime...but to control it.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Here's one! Merry Christmas!**

**A/N: New fic - tis an AU, but BMWW of course :) And while this may seem vague, it's integral to the story, so enjoy its randomness. **

**Prologue**

Her hands didn't shake. They never shook. She knew that as a human, she was warm-blooded, but it was something she'd often doubted. Killing came so very easily for her, after all.

She still had the adrenaline rush - which was why she did what she did. But the adrenaline didn't hamper her. It enhanced her, let her move flawlessly from ordinary looking woman to cold assassin. It was hot, under the sun with no cover. But her senses were heightened. The cold of the metal rifle barrel under her fingers. The drop of sweat running down her neck, tickling at the skin. The soft breeze blowing a strand of hair around her face.

She leaned down and took aim. _Three, two, one. _She pulled the trigger. The target's head exploded in a red mist.

Moving quickly, methodically, she dismantled the sniper rifle and packed it away, then left the rooftop quickly. When she'd managed to get back to the rental car, five minutes later, she made sure to leave the parking lot slowly. People who rushed away from crime scenes were asking to get chased. So she stopped at the red light in front of her, when it came.

The light turned green. She set off. But while the assassin was being a model driver, the person who'd run his own red light wasn't. And she didn't have time to think how ironic it was before her internal organs were crushed.

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**A/N: More soon!**


	2. The Special Agent

**A/N: A little more to go on here, and the start of the main plot. Enjoy!**

**Chapter One - The Special Agent**

It was no hardship for her anymore, getting up at five am each morning. In the early years, when she was just a rookie cop fresh out of training and a junior patrolwoman in the San Diego Police Department, it took every ounce of willpower she possessed to drag her exhausted carcass out of bed. If not for the strict regime that Hippolyta had put her on, there was probably no way she would have worked as a cop in the beginning. But then without Hippolyta there was probably no way Diana Prince would have worked as much of anything.

Special Agent Diana Prince of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

She reminded herself of that every morning. It still brought the same surge of pride and confidence it had the first day on the job. When, five years ago, her mentor Hippolyta Basilissa had moved to Washington D.C. to become Deputy Director of the FBI, it hadn't taken Diana long to follow – or rather, be sent for, since she had a gift for acting, and for most of her police career Diana had been working as an undercover agent. Before she enrolled at Police Academy, Diana had been living firmly on the wrong side of the law. Orphaned – or abandoned – at a young age, the only way to survive had been to steal, or beg, or blackmail, or con whoever she needed to. Hippolyta had been one of her marks, but rather than arresting her, the older woman had seen something in the skinny, dirty-faced, wild-eyed girl that was worth nurturing.

To this day, Diana had no idea what that might have been; she was only grateful that she had. Hippolyta had saved her life that day, and she'd continued saving it for years. Now, when Diana looked in the mirror, she didn't see a pathetic, worthless waste of space anymore. She saw someone that Hippolyta could be proud of. Maybe, as her boss had told her once or twice, she was even the daughter that Hippolyta had never had.

Tying her long raven hair back into a low ponytail, and pulling on her fleece, Diana left her apartment just as the sun was rising, heading out on her normal running route. Running always helped to clear her mind, and she especially needed it today. Today was a big day. Director Carter had retired recently, and Hippolyta's official promotion ceremony was this afternoon. So there wouldn't be a lot of actual crime-solving, at least not for Diana and the rest of them on Hippolyta's immediate team. Today they'd just be there to cheer their boss on. It also meant a promotion for Diana - she'd move from being a Senior Field Agent to a Special Agent.

The team consisted of all female members; Diana and three younger women who were all like sisters to her. Donna Troy, who could literally be her twin, they looked so alike; Mari McCabe, who was always on top of the latest everything, from fashion to weaponry; and Barbara Gordon, the brains of the whole operation, their intellectual powerhouse. Not that any of them was anything less than intelligent, but Barbara was a genius. If Director Carter had had his way, then she would have been transferred to the Cyber Crimes Unit long ago, but at Hippolyta's insistence, Barbara had stayed firmly where she was – mainly because of her prowess as a field agent too.

By the time the eight miles of her normal route were up, Diana was pleasantly warm, the cool early morning air contrasting nicely against her heated skin. Unlocking her apartment, she peeled off her jogging clothes, leaving a trail of garments to the bathroom. After a quick, functional shower, she dressed quickly in the smart clothes she'd laid out the following night. Normally she dressed smart/casual for work – terribly formal suits didn't work well when hounding criminals. But today, since the FBI was hopefully criminal-free, her smartest, carefully pressed light grey skirt suit would be worn. For what was probably only the second time since she'd bought it. She decided to go with a fitted black shirt underneath the jacket.

She was chomping on a muesli bar when the front door was hammered upon. Diana smiled; it was seven thirty, and Donna was right on time. She only lived a few doors down from Diana, so the two women had shared a car to and from the office for the last year or so.

"Calm down, Troy!" she yelled as she opened it.

"I'm calm!" Donna protested. "Got any coffee?"

Diana motioned for her friend to come inside. "In the pot."

Donna poured two cups and drank deeply, then tilted her head. "You look nice," she noted.

"Thanks. So do you," Diana said politely. Truthfully, Donna did look good - or smart at least, but somehow the smart look didn't sit well with her. She should really be wearing biker's leathers or something. Maybe it was the hair. Diana moved forward and brushed a wayward strand away from Donna's face, smoothing it behind her ear. "Much better."

"Thanks, _Mom_."

Diana rolled her eyes. "Shut up and drink your coffee."

Leaving Donna to finish her beverage, Diana went into the living room and picked up her jacket from the couch, putting it on and smoothing out the creases. From inside the kitchen, Donna snorted. "You're preening, aren't you?"

"No, as it happens. You ready?"

There was a pause while Donna checked the time. "Di, it's not even a quarter to yet! There's no point leaving now, we'll be way too early!"

"No," Diana said, "there are road-works on Fifth. And average speed limits. If we leave now then we'll get there five minutes early, right when Barbara will."

Donna came into the living room with her coffee and an unimpressed expression. "Or we could wait for me to finish my drink, and you could break the speed limit. It wouldn't actually kill you, you know."

"No, but it could lose me my badge unless I have authorisation," Diana returned primly. "Now come on."

Rolling her eyes, Donna put her mug in the sink and joined her - as of today - boss, by the door. True to form, Diana drove exactly at the speed limit, not a mile over or under the whole way until they got to the F.B.I building. Diana nodded pointedly at her watch, which was showing exactly twenty five minutes past eight.

"Does it make your head explode if you're anything less than average all of the time?" Donna asked, rolling her eyes.

"Shut up, Troy," Diana replied with a roll of her eyes.

As she'd predicted, Barbara was pulling up in the space alongside her, combing out her red hair with her fingers as she did. "Morning, ladies!"

"Hey, Babs," they chorused.

She narrowed her eyes. "You know how creepy that is, don't you?"

"Yep," they replied with identical grins.

Barbara pulled her purse out of the car as Mari's Porsche drove up beside them. Rumour was she modelled in Japan; Diana believed it, since no one aside from the director had cash enough for a Porsche on the kind of salary they got paid. Agent McCabe looked impeccable, as she always did. _Yep, definitely a model. That's Gucci,_ Diana thought somewhat mournfully.

Chatting happily, the four women went inside, finding themselves almost alone in the office, apart from Hippolyta, who was sitting at her usual desk. The others frowned at one another - she'd been due to move into the director's office this morning. Had something gone wrong? Diana, though, wasn't worried. She knew her boss; this was simply Hippolyta going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. It wasn't that she didn't want to take command, since the opposite was true. She relished and was extremely good in a leadership role. The beaurocracy, however...

"Morning, Director."

Hippolyta brushed some of her long blonde hair away from her face. "Morning. The ceremony's been cancelled."

"Cancelled?" Donna exclaimed. "Director, I got dressed up just for-"

At the sharp elbow she received in the side from Babs, the young woman snapped her mouth shut and returned Hippolyta's raised eyebrow with a winning smile. "Why is it cancelled, ma'am?" Barbara asked sweetly.

"I convinced the former director that it was a waste of resources and that it would be far simpler simply to hand over the key to his office," Hippolyta replied succinctly. "I'm sorry you all had to get up so early."

Diana shrugged. "We'd be here anyway." She started to move over to her new desk, only to be stopped by Hipployta's order.

"Troy, you take my old desk, McCabe you're at Troy's, and Gordon move to Prince's."

"Director?" Diana frowned. Surely the Special Agent's desk was _hers _now? Sure, Donna became Senior Field Agent, but where the hell was Diana meant to be sitting? She couldn't be getting fired...could she?

"I have something else in mind for you," Hippolyta told her.

"What?"

"You're becoming her secretary," Donna whispered teasingly.

Diana delivered a glare. "Shut up, Troy."

"Diana."

She turned. "Sorry, ma'am."

Hippolyta, ever a woman of few words, simply motioned with her head for Diana to follow her. She shrugged at Mari's look of question, and followed the director down to the morgue at the bottom of the building. She shivered as they entered - simply because it was freezing down here. She'd seen too many cadavers for that to bother her anymore.

The M.E. looked up and smiled at the two. "What can I do for you, Director?" she asked.

"Need to see the body that came in last night," Hippolyta said.

Doctor Starling pointed at the black body-bag at the far end of the morgue. Hippolyta nodded. "You can go, Doctor. Thank you."

Starling left, leaving Diana alone with her mentor and the corpses. Hippolyta crossed to the right one, and drew the zip down, revealing the white face of a woman, a stark contrast to her flaming red hair. Her glassy eyes were a bottle green. "Who is she?" Diana asked.

"No one knows what her real name is," Hippolyta said. "But her code name is the Amazon."

Diana's eyebrows raised in surprise. "As in-"

The blonde woman nodded. "Yes."

"How did she die?" Diana asked.

"Car crash. Accident. We wouldn't have picked up who she was except for that DNA sample lifted from a crime scene two years ago." It was the only time the Amazon had slipped up.

"So why are you showing me?" Diana asked.

"Because I have an assignment for you."

"What?"

"Among the wreckage we managed to recover her list of targets. The next one...is an arms dealer known as the Bat."

Diana gasped. "What?" Then she sighed in frustration. "It would be better if she'd succeeded."

"Maybe," Hippolyta conceded. "But maybe the Fates have given us an opportunity."

"How so?"

"No one knows who the Amazon is. Including Bruce Wayne."

Diana frowned. "So what, you're suggesting that we kill him? It's been considered before, Director."

"True, but I'm not suggesting that. I'm suggesting that someone in the Bureau go undercover as the Amazon into Wayne's organisation. A deep-cover mission."

It didn't take a genius to work out who the director was considering for such a mission. Diana had done undercover before, but something like this it would take months, maybe even years to earn Wayne's trust. She'd have to go deeper than she ever had before. God only knew what kind of crimes she might have to commit in the name of the greater good.

Still - if she stood a chance of bringing a crime lord like him to justice... "Yes," she said. "I'll do it."

Hippolyta's face did not relax from its severe expression. "I'm not looking for an immediate answer, Agent Prince. You have a week to think about it."

She left Diana and the Amazon alone, staring into one another.

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